Endure
by StardustIsMagic
Summary: what was formed between them was not kind, nor unable to prevent jealousy, behaved unbecomingly and rejoiced in unrighteousness, it did not bear all things, for they were beyond terrified of that, and it did not hope nor believe all things. It did however endure all things, and despite every single odd to that very moment, it did not fail. Cato/OC - One-shot.


"_Even angels have their wicked schemes, and you take death to new extremes, but you'll always be my hero, even though you've lost your mind."_

* * *

Love is patient, love is kind and is not jealous; love does not brag and is not arrogant, does not act unbecomingly; it does not seek its own, is not provoked, does not take into account a wrong suffered, does not rejoice in unrighteousness, but rejoices with the truth; bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails.

A quote such as famous and adored as that surely would be the last thing to enter your mind upon death, especially when passing in the circumstances so much like Astrid Flux. Only a person such as her; hardened to the bone with hatred and bitterness, could not love herself let alone another, she had no ability to put others before herself, alone for the majority of her childhood she had never learned to think of others before herself.

That, however, had all been blown to hell in the very moment her dark grey eyes clashed with blue, dislike for each other occurring instantly. She supposed now that it had been due his persona being so strangely like hers, yes their motives drastically different, but what lay in their hearts remained the same.

They found solace in each other, both of their burning fire of hatred towards everything around them was doused out with each other's presence.

But what was formed between them was not kind, nor unable to prevent jealousy, behaved unbecomingly and rejoiced in unrighteousness, it did not bear all things, for they were beyond terrified of that, and it did not hope nor believe all things. It did however endure all things, and despite every single odd to that very moment, it did not fail.

For he was still there, the image of him blurred due to her fading sight, but there nonetheless, she felt his presence around as if it were second nature, and for the first time was thankful for such a thing. She supposed it was why she was content now, ready to pass, feeling life slip away from her, knowing she would finally be at peace in the world of slumber.

Their first encounter had been in the training room, his large hand contrasted against her small pale one when both reaching for the same weapon. He scoffed, whacking her hand away and dismissing her with indifference before he once again reached for the sword, her simply sneering at him, not allowing him the pleasure to be aware of the fact his dismissal had gotten beneath her skin.

She was not surprised of his arrogance, for the big red single number '2' that was plastered onto his uniform was self-explanatory of his behaviour. She, however, knew that it was a matter of proving herself, her district known for only a handful of victors, and the career alliance had already accepted her male partner, the stocky brunette with cold green eyes had no need to ask for acceptance, it was given.

She despised him more than life itself, and the feelings were reciprocated, both for reasons running far deeper than just rivalry of a victor, Hazara Rock had been the golden son of District Four's mayor, hiring trainers especially from Two in order to compete. She hated him, hated him with every fibre in her being, the thought of him sickening her to the core and a burning hot passion of bitterness enveloped her whenever she laid eyes on him.

He had volunteered of course, although it had been so cleverly done after she had been reaped, it was no coincidence, he hated her enough to volunteer, and with her name being called a year before she would be classified as too old, he would be killing two birds with one stone. Literally.

She could almost laugh at it, not expecting any less, the boy had taken so much from her already, why should he not stop? He would continue until her life was taken too.

What she hated the most was how justice had not been served, how he had feigned grievance for the loss of his mother, how he had comforted his own father as if it had been some mere accident. How he had _gotten away_ with his treachery, and had taken the only person she deemed worth living for along with his mother.

And for what reason? For her following her heart? Or perhaps it was because she had thought of herself before him, that for once he was not the centre of everything. He was selfish, and cruel, and in that respect she deemed him perfect for the Hunger Games.

Their hatred for one another was far from unnoticed; their constant clash of volatile words to each other in training had caused a warning from the head game maker. This was what had eventually caused Cato Hadley to allow curiosity to get the better of him, for he truly was intrigued to see such animosity between two people who should have been united in a time such as this. He had been shunned by her of course, his earlier dismissal of her abilities had not been forgotten, and on that very note he began wondering if he had welcomed the wrong tribute into their alliance.

The boy himself did not particularly like the male tribute from four, he spoke too much, and too loudly at that, questioning Cato's authority on many accounts, something which made the boy growl like a predator. He was a leader, he was a winner. He would be upstaged.

The main event, however, had been on the night of the interviews, with the talks of the highest training scores, the Girl on Fire being the main topic; another had been on how exactly Astrid had outdone her district partner Hazara.

That night she had been beyond difficult to work with, Astrid had never worn a dress, nor would she start now, and with enough of Finnick Odair's coaxing, they had at least been able to dress her in a pair of wet look leggings, silver heels that she could barely walk in, and her long black hair pulled into an elegant bun.

Her father would have been proud of her that night, smiling softly towards the host Caesar, her laughing melding in with the audiences as she made crude jokes at the other victor's expenses, and she had become likeable. A contender.

This was what caused the fire to burn into a blaze, her and Hazara's long-time hatred becoming a main centrepiece for the games. He had cracked. His usual self composed perfect boy façade and disappeared.

That night, as she sat on her own in the lobby seating area, other tributes in groups around her, watching the interviews continue, she had not expected the cruel words that left Hazara's mouth in a soft whisper, as he leant over her chair, body close to hers as if it were an intimate moment.

"Do you ever imagine how it feels to be burnt by fire?" he had murmured, "how the flames would lick at your skin? How you would scream in agony for however long until you died?"

She had sucked him a breath then, biting onto her lip and willing herself to remain calm, knowing that this would have happened sooner or later, she attempted to stand, only for him to grab onto the back of her neck in a painful grip, and yank on her so that her body melded with his. Making her skin crawl, and her stomach to churn in disgust as she clenched her fists, ignoring the now deathly silent lobby as they begun to notice.

"I heard him scream. Watched as the fire destroyed everything you knew, watched as he screamed with that _whore_," he had lost the soft tone he once held, and now his voice came out strained, his resolve breaking as anger coursed through him, still managing to not raise his voice, "and the best part about it all? Was that I never enjoyed anything more than that."

Her fist connected with his jaw before he could even realise what she had done, sending him reeling backwards and falling to the floor, she breathed heavily after that, watching as he registered what she had done. His face turning into a shade of red in anger, and came barrelling towards her, her crashed into her, causing them both to fall into a glass table, shattering beneath them and her blazer ripping from it.

They had broken many things that night, Hazara going as far to head-butt a peacekeeper, and successfully knocking him out, in order to continue his brawl with her. Both obtaining several cuts and bruises from each other, until they were pulled apart from their mentor and several other peacekeepers, the both of them screaming profanities as they went. Large arms wrapped around her and yanking her away as the rest of the capitol citizens and tributes watched on in awe.

Astrid had been ready to claw at which ever peacekeeper that had the audacity to man handle her in such a way, watching the crowd of people and broken inanimate objects move further and further away as she was dragged to the elevators. That night had been her breakthrough with Cato Hadley, for she had only then realised it had been him who had pulled her from the mess, his face blank and speaking no words as she calmed down inside the elevator, her hands trembling in anger at the thought of Hazara's words.

She and Cato had gained something from each other that night, something she hadn't realised until it was too late, when the elevator doors had closed and he had nodded at her; respect.

It didn't stop there, for he seemed to be rather lenient with her life at the Cornucopia, catching her just as she was heading for a weapon, and she had frozen, her grey eyes clashing with his blue ones once more, before he again nodded towards her, as if she were a tribute in his alliance and barrelled pass her towards an outer district.

She would have thanked him if given the chance, only the cornucopia bloodbath was not a moment to take your time with such things, and she had left, intent on working alone and to catch Hazara at the end, taking his victory from beneath him and revelling in the sweet revenge she had craved for all these years. She needed it, knowing that all those talks of revenge not bringing you peace did not apply with her, because she would feel no peace until justice was served, until he was dead.

Her time in the arena had been relatively quiet after that, the game makers not seeming interested in bothering her, they were saving her for the very end, for the entire country new that her final battle with Hazara would be one to watch.

It was in this time, that she once again encountered the enigma that was Cato Hadley, his golden hair dishevelled and dirty, blue eyes glazed and unaware of their surroundings, practically stumbling through the forest, sword dragging behind him. She had laughed then, watching his pathetic attempts to swing at invisible forces, figuring out that he must be intoxicated in some way. Tucking a lose strand of black hair behind her ear she had stepped out of her hiding place, exchanging a few words with the golden boy, words she knew he would not remember, before aiding him.

She still didn't know why, except for the fact that he had spared her life in the beginning, but she had felt something she had never felt before; pity. He had been a sitting duck, the disabled tribute from ten could have easily slayed him, Cato's co-ordination and common sense had been rendered useless, and she had learned exactly why when he eventually came around. Explaining the tracker jacker ambush that Fire Girl had caused, and the death of Glimmer, and how instead of fleeing he had fought and injured the boy from twelve.

She had almost wanted to vomit the night the boy had declared his love for his district partner, it had all seemed so pathetic to her, and a weakness the stupid boy should not have had in such a situation. Cato seemed to agree with this, for he had no problem voicing his amount of disgust for it, the thought of love sickening him as much as it did her, and the fact that the Capitol had basked in it was a fact they both voiced their hatred on.

He had no choice but to stick with her in the days preceding that, for his encounter with the engineered insects left him unable to be at his full potential, and in this time they both learned that they were not so different.

He had no family either, though he had admitted this in a heartbeat, his voice monotonous and dismissive, as if it had not bothered, nor damaged him in the slightest. Slowly, she begun to understand him more, begun to understand his need to please everyone and his desperation to excel in everything as the best, his bloodthirsty attitude and hatred towards everyone who had everything.

This was not to say that she had been the same, it had not worked both ways, for her secrets and feels were hidden behind more than just one brick wall, instead it had been several, along with vaults and chains that not even the strongest men in the world could break. It did nothing to deter him however, instead he himself begun to feel pity, for he understood her suffering, and in turn pushed harder, causing her to eventually blow, venomously stating that he no longer needed to be around her, nor did she need him, and parted ways.

She did not expect to feel so alone after his departure, and with the days dragging on, supplies running low and the no real form human contact she felt herself slipping away, she craved for the games to end, for she knew she had no chance of winning, but did know however that she could take away Hazara's chances.

Just like he had taken away her only happiness, and upon the game makers announcement of not one, but two tributes being permitted to win, she smirked in delight, for she knew neither herself nor Hazara would be that desperate to win, he was a man adamant in stating he could do it on his own. And with now only a handful of victors left, she knew he would be leaving the career alliance as soon as possible, for he would be killed in an instant in order for Cato and Clove to come out on top.

And when her thought process had moved onto the blonde brute, she thought of how would possibly be now, whether he himself thought of his time with her, and how he must have been surviving now since the explosions of his supplies. She was surprised she know that being from the District of favoured victors that they had not been taught survival skills, when she had simply been lucky, with her father being a fisherman she had learnt to catch fish at an early age, learning how to use a trident and knife, further training herself in using them for weaponry after the demise of her father.

It was in that moment, that she had been ready to slice at her own throat, for she had realised something; that she _cared_ for the golden blue eyed tribute. Cared enough to think of his wellbeing, to wonder whether he thought of her, and mentally scolded herself as she had been insulting the boy from twelve over such similar things, Astrid did not care for people. Caring caused nothing but heartache and trouble, and she was setting herself up for disaster by doing such a thing in these games.

Unfortunately it did not stop there, for she had been stupid enough to, once again, help him in the banquet, proceeding Clove's death by the hand of the brown skinned tribute, Astrid had watched from the bushes as Hazara took his chance then, at Cato's most vulnerable moment. She had attempted to reason with herself that it was simply her taking the chance to end Hazara, that he would not see her coming from a mile off, that he would be too busy attempting to take on his biggest threat in the games, and would stick to those thoughts until the end.

As a result she had gotten herself stupidly injured, to the point of her loss of consciousness, waking several hours later to the sound of pouring rain, her grey eyes adjusting to her surroundings, the makeshift tents the careers had received from the Cornucopia being one of the very few things left in Cato's possession, and had used it to skilfully shelter –and hide them- within the forest and away from hunting eyes.

They had said nothing to each other that night, neither of them prone for verbally expressing gratitude, nor showing any emotion other than anger or animosity towards others. It was alien to them both, her allowing to be nursed from her head injury, while he tended to her, their roles reversed, leaving them both feeling exposed in their own ways. It was that same night that Astrid had cracked, her raven hair matted with dirt and tangled in its fishtail plait, her tribute clothing creased and soaking with sweat and mud, and her mental stability deteriorating. She opened up.

"My mother died shortly after I was born, a type of cancer in her womb, it killed her before I was even old enough to recognise her, my father had raised me then, a poor fisherman, he taught me everything I know."

She had paused to look him in the eye, his face blank of any emotion, yet his blue eyes held so much more, the respect for her showing the most, and understanding too. And wrapped in the unzipped sleeping bag she went on, explaining how her father had begun an illicit love affair with the mayor's wife, how the both of them found love in each other, their loneliness and neglect bringing them together, how Hazara had discovered them, and in his rage had purposefully set Astrid's home in a blaze.

She had found him there, grinning sadistically towards her as others attempted to douse the fire, and watched him disappear into the sea of people, and how in that split second she had changed forever.

"It was only for a moment, but that single moment of eye contact was enough for me to know that it was his doing, and he knew I knew. A twelve year old was capable of that."

The spoke no more of her painful memories, but more of her willingness to die, and how Cato could not understand why she would not fight for her life more, why she did not see a point in living.

"Would it bring you happiness, knowing he was dead?"

She stared at him for a long time then, actually wondering to herself whether it would, and shook her head eventually, a bitter smile spreading across her lips as she looked to the floor, the calming sound of the raindrops comforting her.

"To be honest … I don't remember what happiness feels like."

She didn't fear death, in fact she welcomed it, begged for it even, for every single day of her life she simply wondered when her time would come, and that was why she told Cato that on the day of her reaping, she had accepted it. Her only mission was to destroy Hazara, make him beg, watch him suffer the greatest of pains and hear him scream in anguish and pain as her own father did.

"I didn't think happiness existed at all," Cato had replied, his eyes staring into the space behind Astrid, and in the close confined space between them she wondered if he were purposefully avoiding her gaze, "until now."

Confusion had coursed through her then, unable to understand his words, that here of all places would be the most difficult to find happiness. She would have asked him exactly how that were possible, if he had not cut her off the moment her lips parted to question him, his mouth possessively claiming hers as he sprang towards her. The dominant and aggressive monster inside of him surfacing, she hadn't fought it either, taking several seconds to recover from her shock, she involuntarily begun responding to him, her teeth biting at his lips violently and causing a growl. Her repressed attraction and thoughts of him springing away from the chest she had locked them in, and allowed his body to press into hers, her back meeting the hard floor of the forest.

He lit her body on fire, in a way she didn't think was ever possible, and matched her in every fight she brought to him with his domination lips. It was only until he parted away from her for breath, leaving her feeling slightly light headed as she stared up to the ceiling of the tent, eventually sitting up to look at Cato through hooded eyes.

He growled darkly at that, causing the pit of her stomach to squirm, something she did not know of and therefore terrified her.

"In the sickest and most cruel way … you make me happy."

She remained silent as he continued, his hand running through his matted hair as he continuously stared at her in arousal.

"I enjoy making you suffer, and causing you anger … and I enjoy it when you fight back just as violently."

She hadn't replied to him then, mostly because there was nothing she could say to that, her response to his kiss was enough of an answer in the first place. Instead she advanced towards him, claiming his lips once more, unsure of what exactly it was she felt to the monster of two, but that she felt something, and there was no denying it.

That night she had left her rationality drift away, sure that Cato had done the same, and allowed him to pull off her dirty clothing, lips violently biting at her neck and collarbone, his grip rough on her as she gasped in pleasure. Their bodies becoming one in ferocious and intense movement, and she enjoyed it, feeling no shame in admitting it. He made her content. Happy even. Though happiness would never be an emotion she would admit.

She didn't need to, being a person of fewer words than Cato, he had learnt quickly to read her through her grey orbs, claiming her as his without a word of protest from her. It was all the battles with him, and the understanding of how much hatred she carried within herself that kept them linked together, that kept them both satisfied.

All good things come to an end however, no matter how violent that good thing may be, and as the rain stopped, and the sun began to warm up the arena once more, they knew their days of being ignorant to their surroundings was over. Thus causing them to face the facts that only one would live, and should it come down to it, they would have to kill each other. Only they didn't address, both attempting to remain as ignorant as possible, both desperate to latch onto the only small piece of solace they had left.

It was exactly why Astrid had scolded herself in the first place, exactly why her rational mind had tried to reason with her to stay away, to stop caring. Because caring got you killed, and caring brought you nothing but pain. She should have known better, she should have simply left him in the forest, she should have let Hazara kill him, and she shouldn't have spent several nights with him in that pathetically small tent.

But she had. And for the first time in her life; she was glad that she had.

It awoke her to feelings she never knew she was capable of having, knowing only him, the golden haired volatile being, was adept enough to cause them. Because he _understood_. It was as simple as that.

On that same night, as another storm brewed, and lightening flashed, the both of them found themselves in the dilemma of being completely lost to the field that housed Thresh. The rain and grey skies making it difficult to properly co-ordinate, Astrid's trained ears rendered inadequate as she would be unable to hear any of Thresh's footsteps. Leaving them in a difficult position when he did eventually attack, taking them off guard by piercing his weapon into the back of Astrid, causing an inhumane anger to course through Cato, a battle commencing that she was sure would not be forgotten.

She had no time to properly assess her injury, or to think of the unbearable pain it caused her, for she had been followed, Hazara attacking at his full capacity, his sword clashing with her trident, and the two biggest battles of the 74th Hunger Games took place. She had no time to look for Cato, not while she continued to block all of Hazara's attacks, while continuing to attempt to stay on her feet, her blood loss increasing rapidly.

Barely feeling him tackle her to the ground, her hair now soaked from the rain, clothes now seeping with her own blood, and body numb as he became colder and colder, she also barely felt his weight lift off of her, a canon going off as she saw Thresh's body merely metres away, his eyes staring blankly and empty in her direction. She mostly heard than saw Cato and Hazara's fight, only their feet drifting into her sight every so often, and felt herself slipping away. Her hand digging into the zipped pocket of her jacket, as she had a rather painful, bone cracking punch be delivered onto either one of the men, not knowing who until she heard one of their voices.

"Just for the shit you've caused, I'm gonna make her scream," Hazara breathed sadistically, his chest heaving in and out as his green eyes pierced into Cato's blue ones, his form looming over him, "and I'm gonna make sure you hear every single one until I put you down … like a dog."

He stood then, from his crouched position, picking up his sword that was strewn on the floor, mixed with blood and dirt, advancing towards Astrid like a predator, until his feet were level with her head, her grey eyes, even now, staring up coldly towards him and without fear. It angered him, and resulted in a hard kick to her ribs, causing her to bite down on her lip hard and drawing blood, all to stop herself from yelling in pain, from giving him the satisfaction.

He ignored the threat to leave Cato's exhausted lips, looking to him and scoffing as if he were a pathetic child, his eyes widened for a split second as he felt a small jolt of pain from his leg, looking down to Astrid once more. Her eyes still cold and blank, yet her arm was now raised, hand wrapped around the smallest of syringes, slowly removing it from her grip to reveal that she had pierced it into Hazara's leg.

"Nitrotoxin," she whispered, her voice almost being carried with the wind and drowned out from the pouring rain, "a poison so deadly that within contact, can kill you in less than ninety seconds. I only found two of them at the cornucopia, never thought it would come in handy until now."

He never replied, for the deadly liquid was already flooding through his veins, destroying his blood cells and shutting off his organs, and her face now hardened, anger once more filling through her as she finally felt the satisfaction she knew she deserved.

"I've waited five years for this … and it's better than I imagined."

He crumbled to the floor then, his body dropping beside her, sword held in his loose grip, frothing at his mouth until he finally stopped breathing. Astrid let out something between a sigh of relief and a choked sob, because she finally felt as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders, she finally felt free.

"Cato?"

Her voice was barely above a whisper now, blood pooled uncontrollably around her, and she heard the shuffling of the boy as he attempted to stand, his ribs broken from the impact of Hazara's attacks, coughing up his own blood as he attempted to reply.

"I'm here," he said, dropping to his knees in exhaustion once more beside her, and clumsily lifted her, the top half of her body resting against his chest, and he held onto her tightly as his face hardened, "don't you even think about it, don't you dare leave me here."

She could have smiled then, because even now, when the both of them knew that they could not come out of this alive together, that he was so adamant in her remaining alive, and she could only hope that he knew she thought the same for him.

His arm moved to under her knees, readying himself to lift her.

"I still have some medical supplies left, it's not much but it can keep you going, until we-"

"Until we what Cato?"

She heard him groan softly in pain, her head lolling against his chest, eyelids feeling heavy, and knowing he would not respond to her question, for the answer was already painfully waved in their faces. His grip tightened on her instinctively, his memories of holding Clove as she died still too raw in his mind, and knowing that this would cause him just as much pain.

"I don't want you to die."

Her hand reached for his face, palm resting flat against his cheek her blood smearing onto his sun kissed skin, and she whispered so softly, to emphasize just how meaningful her words were.

"You gave me peace … in a lifetime of pain."

And it was true, for however short of time it was, the fact that she was able to obtain any form of peace would never go unnoticed by her, and she leaned into his touch as he buried his face into her dirty black hair.

Remaining with her until the end.

Because love is patient, it does not act unbecomingly; it bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, and endures all things. Because love never fails.

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**I don't even know where this came from to be honest, I always thought if I DID write a Cato/OC fic that took place in the arena, that I would have my OC die, and well … we all know what happens to Cato after this … and this little oneshot was to just get that itching to go away … because I'm extremely dedicated to my other Cato fic … but I won't lie I totally loved writing this! I hope you enjoyed it … actually I don't know whether it's that well written in the first place, I sort of rushed it and didn't go into that much depth … but if you read it I thank you! **


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